Page 35 of Scars & Starlight
“Is something not to your liking?” Elmsleigh asks, as I’m sure he intended. He’s a master of eliciting the reactions he wants, positioning people and their decisions just so, until they all inevitably end up in his trap.
“Don’t worry about it, Maggie,” Orien responds with a wide grin. “I’m just not used to tasting the pollution quite this much.”
I look away and roll my eyes. That’s a lie: we spent entire moonfalls on Tyren cut off from our supplies, drinking rainwater, foraging, and hunting whatever animal life the Gorvek left behind in their path of destruction. Avaren prefer not to kill or destroy for our nourishment, having the means to create it out of the molecules available all around us, but that does not mean we’re not prepared to fight for our survival.
My match’s eyes are wide as she observes Margaret’s reaction: a slight twitch of her left eyelid, muscles shifting as her jaw clenches. Orien, on the other hand, hides his smirk behind a fake cough.
“Bet you the last edible jar of peanut butter on the planet that Maggie’s about to enter her napalm era,” Tara whispers to me.
I frown at her and wonder about the unknown words. Peanut butter sounds self-explanatory, but…
NAPALM: GELATINIZED HYDROCARBON-BASED INCENDIARY COMPOUND DEVELOPED BY HUMANS FOR MILITARY PURPOSES.
Is she insinuating that Margaret is about to set fire to Orien?
“I’m certain that I didn’t ask what you are and aren’t used to tasting,” Elmsleigh volleys at my officer through gritted teeth.
“Man, serious popcorn cravings right now,” my match whispers next.
POPCORN: HEAT-EXPANDED SEED OF A SPECIFIC CULTIVATED EARTH CROP.
I scratch my head. They only heat-expand one type of seed? What does it have to do with what’s happening between Orien and Elmsleigh? And do humans use napalm to prepare it?
“I’m certain you can help change my mind,” Orien singsongs at Maggie, twirling the many-pronged eating utensil he’s not using to eat.
Margaret gives me a deadpan look. “Call someone else.”
“Orien will be more courteous,” I command with a sidelong glance in his direction.
“I am being nothing if not courteous,” he huffs.
“Be less of your brand of courteous, then,” I retort, signaling the end of the topic. I turn back to the human leader in this area. “Maggie, please tell us what you know about the Ghorvek activities here, so that we may coordinate more efficiently.”
“Aw,” Tara complains softly, and I have to fight my lips from curling. Little troublemaker.
After firstlight,I observe Tara hugging Kiko as soon as we board the Talon. I should get her a pet that’s more comfortable to embrace.Perhaps one of the fluffy cloud-like creatures from Atreon. Then again, she is an engineer and likely holds a fondness for mechanical parts.
After a drawn-out dinner, where we mulled over Ghorvek habits on the British Isles while Orien was surprisingly muted, Tara dropped into bed with her shoes still on, falling asleep instantly. I took off her boots and watched her sleep for a few marks, thinking about what she might find out in the next few days as we search for her family. The Ghorvek cause so many scars in their senseless conquest.
“So, Brussels next?” my match asks me from the floor, the AU still in her arms.
“I have a question,” I say instead of confirming. “The vegetables Margaret served at dinner – were they named after this human city, or was the human city named after them?”
Tara giggles, like I wanted her to, her brown eyes sparkling as the sun’s early rays reach inside through the panoramic front viewing pane.
“According to the nanites, the vegetables were named after the city since before the thirteenth century.” She tilts her head impishly. “Did you like them?”
I nod with mock seriousness. “They were surprisingly nutritious.”
Tara curls her upper lip. “You weirdo.”
Glad I chased some of the shadows from her earlier expression, I extend my hand to help her up, and smile when Kiko uses it to go from her lap and onto my shoulders. I feel like he’s developing a personality influenced by my princess. Or perhaps I just never paid enough attention to mechs, and Tara is now opening my eyes.
I tug her up and guide her to the pilot’s seat. “Come here.”
She gingerly sits down, her expression wary. “You expect me to fly us?”
Kiko balances himself on my shoulder as I take a seat next to her. “Don’t worry. The Talon will do most of the work with the automaticsettings.” I wink at her. “All you have to do is press some buttons.” When her lips purse, I give her an encouraging smile. “Didn’t you want to learn about Avaren technology? What better way than to use it.”
